


The Boy with the Books

by itsametaphorbrian (Noobmaster69811)



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, M/M, crowley and aziraphale suck at their jobs, obvious cameo is obvious, wink at book versions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 07:19:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19352155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noobmaster69811/pseuds/itsametaphorbrian
Summary: "Find the boy with the curly hair who sits alone in the school library and give him divine inspiration to write," Gabriel had said. It was a simple task, but Aziraphale could not bring himself to show up at a high school without a posse, and Crowley would be damned (again) if he wasn't the sole member of said posse.





	The Boy with the Books

**Author's Note:**

> sugarybowl heavily helped me out with this and pretty much came up with the entire plot-line so yeah, props to her.

“I don’t see why we have to do this,” muttered Aziraphale under his breath, “there must be some other solution. There simply must be.”

“Not for us, angel.” The demon sighed, wasting no time in rolling up his school uniform’s sleeves, popping a few buttons open and loosening his necktie. “You know, if you wanted to be so convincing, you could’ve added some acne to that pretty little face of yours.”

“Now, let’s not be irrational, dear. There’s no reason to be filthy, is there?”

“I’m just saying, if what you’re going for is authenticity.” Crowley clicked his tongue nonchalantly. He ran a hand through the raven hair, alarmed at the sight of it, but then remembered it was only temporary. Aziraphale’s golden curls were also scheduled to disappear as soon as the mission was accomplished. You see, the angel had previously been given an assignment. _Find the boy with the curly hair who sits_ _alone in the school library and give him divine inspiration to write_ , Gabriel had said. It was a simple task, but Aziraphale could not bring himself to show up at a high school without a posse, and Crowley would be damned (again) if he wasn’t the sole member of said posse.

And how else were the pair going to stroll into a random high school and go unnoticed if not looking like the rest of the student body? Of course, it would’ve taken a major miracle to change their physical appearance, and a miracle it took. With a snap of the fingers, Aziraphale’s white hair grew flaxen and he was suddenly but a pudgy sixteen year old boy with glasses and rosy cheeks. Crowley’s hair and skin darkened, the latter to an olive tone that Aziraphale found quite fitting of him.

“Right.” Said Crowley, holding his shades up to the sun and rubbing the lenses against his shirt till he considered them squeaky clean, “let’s get to it, angel.” And off they went, in search of the curly haired boy with the books.

***

“Can I help you boys?” a young woman with kind eyes asked from behind the reception desk.

“Uh, yes, actually –“ the angel started, but was cut off as Crowley tugged on his arm and led him away from there.

“Have you lost your mind?” he hissed, taking long strides as if he knew where he was going, “We have to keep a low profile. We don’t want to raise suspicions.” Aziraphale nodded and acted as if he had known this all along. The school bell rang, and a stampede of students poured out of the classroom doors. Aziraphale stood behind Crowley in case they were about to be trampled to death. Blonde girls wearing suggestive outfits strutted down the hall, arms interlocked, noses pointed upwards. The jocks didn’t fall too far behind this group, causing a riot as they bolted down the hall and pushed their peers out of their way.

“Welcome to high school, angel.” Crowley heaved a sigh as he started in the opposite direction of the flurry of students.

“Crowley, are you mad? Just wait till they’re in class.” Aziraphale cried, but it was too late. His voice had been drowned out by those of a hundred adolescents. Crowley had tuned him out and set off against the rush of students. The angel would have to brave his way through the mass as well if he ever wished to see his dear friend again. The teenagers yelled and squealed as they struggled to get through the crowd to get to their next class. Crowley wouldn’t have taken off the sunglasses if he hadn’t been getting a series of funny looks and overall much more attention than a demon should be used to. He tried his best to make it down the hall without ever taking his eyes off the ground, bumping awkwardly into every other passing stranger. Where was his angel?

“Crowley.”

“Angel!”

“Don’t you ever leave me behind like that again. We’re in this together.”

“Course, course.” Crowley let out a sigh, relieved to have found his friend in the sea of unfamiliar faces. Aziraphale pulled him to the side. “Now, we wait for everyone to calm down.”

“We need to find the kid.” Crowley said, clearly just remembering exactly why he'd almost been walked on like a Persian rug. “Let’s find the library.”

The second bell rang, and the students scurried into their respective classrooms. What a pity, they’ll never know there was an angel and a demon lurking through the school halls that day. Crowley and Aziraphale searched up and down every corridor, seeking out the library with more enthusiasm than any of the students ever had in all their years at the school. Well, all except for one. The boy with ebony curls whose nose was buried in “The Lord of the Rings” who the angel and demon now observed from a safe distance.

“Why isn’t he in class?” asked Aziraphale.

“Go ask him.”

“ _You_ go ask him.”

Crowley sighed, rolling his eyes and heading towards the boy. He had to stop listening to that angel.

“Hey, kid.” Though he was a six thousand year old supernatural entity, all the boy saw was a handsome sixteen year old with black strands falling in the way of his golden eyes. “What ’ya reading there?”

“Tolkien.” The kid said, handing the book over to Crowley. He pretended to care, skim through the pages without catching a word and handing it back over to the boy. _The angel should be doing this. He’s the one who likes books, anyway,_ thought Crowley, _and this isn’t even my mission. This is rubbish._ He glanced over to Aziraphale, pupils slit the way they always were when he was under too much pressure (pun intended). Aziraphale knew it was best he joined the conversation.

“Hello, there.” He beamed as he approached the pair. “What are you two up to?” Crowley watched amused as Aziraphale buttoned up his shirt and adjusted his cuffs and bow tie.

“The kid was just showing me his book. You like those, don’t you?”

“Right, yes, of course.” Aziraphale nodded nervously. As one would when approached by this odd duo, the boy made a smooth exit.

“Well, I have a class to get to. See you two around.”

“Right. Toodle-oo.”

“Oh, shut up, angel. We lost him.”

Aziraphale shot Crowley an annoyed glance before replying, “I know”.

***

“Well, as a demon, I have to do my part, don’t I?” Crowley reasoned as the two sat on the bench outside the cafeteria.

“Well, yes, but- “Aziraphale struggled to come up with a valid argument, “well, just what are you planning to do?" Crowley fought back a triumphant grin as he realized he was winning him over.

“Gabriel told you to make the boy write, right?” to which the angel responded with a nod. “Well, then I’ll make sure of it.”

“Really?” Aziraphale’s eyes lit up. “He’s going to write?”

“Oh, he’s gonna write.” Crowley affirmed, mischief evident in his tone to anyone but his angel.

***

It had been a solid hour since the boy had been blessed, and there he was, writing away to his heart’s content. Crowley and Aziraphale watched from afar, proud of a job well done. “Well, I think our work here is done, Crowley. Off we go.”

“Not so fast, angel.”

“How’s that?”

“Aren’t you curious as to what your boy’s writing?” Crowley had to bite down the smile again. Aziraphale rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue, clearly annoyed, “Fine, let’s go see.” They ambled over to the poor boy, fingers stained here and there with black ink.

“What are you writing, lad?” Crowley inquired, “Keep it up and your hand might fall right off.” He chuckled, but Aziraphale’s eyes widened at the little gag. Crowley gave him a reassuring glance (reassuring him that no hands would be falling off).

“Just an essay.” The boy said, barely paying attention to the nosy pair. Aziraphale seemed satisfied with this response and started in the opposite direction, stopped by Crowley’s grip on his arm sleeve.

“What’s it about?” he asked the boy. Aziraphale didn’t like where this was going.

“It’s about whether God exists or not.” The boy said. Both the angel and the demon’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, really?” Now he surely wasn’t going anywhere, considering that he seemed glued to the very ground where he stood, dropped jaw and all. He didn’t need to glance over at Crowley to know that a devilish smirk had crept upon his face, but he did it anyway.

“Wouldn’t you rather go to the movies with your friends?” Aziraphale was quick to suggest other activities to occupy the boy’s time.

“I don’t have many friends. Besides, I just saw that new film _Star Wars_.”

“Did you like it?”

The boy shrugged.

Aziraphale and Crowley shared a look, though Aziraphale’s expressed worry and Crowley’s amusement.

“And do you write for a paper or just for fun?” the angel asked, praying the answer would be the latter.

“I write for the school paper,” the boy said proudly, causing Crowley to turn away and stifle a laugh. Aziraphale remained motionless, shocked at the lengths his friend would go to to throw a wrench in his every plan.

“Well, isn’t that lovely?” he said, maintaining a phony smile, “well, mind how you go.” And now he seized Crowley’s bare forearm, dragging him away from the boy and over to the bleachers.

***

“Why would you do that, Crowley?” Aziraphale tried his very best to scold his friend and bring him back to his senses, but Crowley was too busy rolling on the grass, letting the laughter he had been containing out. “He’s writing about whether- God- exists- or not!” he cried in between hysterical laughs. “Looks like- our work here- is done!”

“Snap out of it, Crowley!” Aziraphale commanded in the gravest of tones. This made Crowley sit up straight on the damp dirt beneath the bleachers.

“Forgive me, angel.” He said, smile slowly fading away.

“I suppose it’s alright. But now what are we going to do? Gabriel will check on my work and this’ll get me into so much trouble.” Aziraphale grew more worried with each word.

“Don’t worry, angel. We’ll fix it.”

“I should have never asked you to come. I should’ve done this all on my own.”

This, Crowley didn’t enjoy hearing, “Well, why didn’t you do just that? I saw how well you socialized with the boy.”

“There’s no need to be rude, Crowley.”

“Of course, there isss!” he hissed, rising to his feet and taking Aziraphale by the collar. “If you didn’t want me to come so badly, then why did you ask me?”

“Well, because you’re my friend!”

Crowley’s grip loosened, and the golden eyes fell as soon as he heard the words. “Your _friend_ , eh?”

“Well, yes.”

“Angels and demons aren’t friends, Aziraphale, you said so yourself.”

“Well, maybe we’re the exception to the rule,” he said softly.

But this last went unheard, for Crowley had sauntered in the opposite direction (again acting as if he knew where he was going). Aziraphale straightened his tie and set off in search of somewhere to spend the night. What the angel and the demon did not know was that nobody ever had important conversations under the bleachers anymore, for a talk there would certainly fall on a third party’s ears.

***

Crowley’s dark hair and tan skin were beginning to grow on him, and it seemed (judging by the turning heads and lingering looks) that his peers were fond of them too. They ogled his car up and down as well. He didn’t see what the fuss was about. Didn’t the other students drive Queen-blasting Bentleys? If he and his best friend had not been arguing, he would’ve walked into that school with the same energy of a drugged snail. But that wasn’t the case, now was it? He and his friend _were_ arguing. So, naturally, the demon rushed into the school in search of his angel, leaving no stone unturned. But after an hour or so of peering into classrooms and scoping out the cafeteria, he decided that Aziraphale had chosen either to leave or not show up today. The former would be too reckless for him, he wouldn’t leave a job unfinished. So, Crowley decided to look where one goes to look for an angel.

“Fancy finding you here.” He said, stepping cautiously through the litter and debris.

“Yes, well, here I am.” Aziraphale said coolly as he put his litter picker to work and went collecting every individual piece of rubbish and depositing it in his trash bag.

“Are you actually doing this for fun?”

“Well, yes. I’m helping keep the environment clean. Plus,” he said, eyes glistening as he looked over at Crowley, “I may get extra credit for it in class.”

“You don’t even go to class!”

“Oh, right. Well, there’s no harm in trying to save the planet.”

“I’d like to see you save the planet.”

“Who knows? Maybe one day I will.”

“You wouldn’t be able to on your own.”

“I know, I tend to need a friend when it comes to the important things.” Aziraphale was building up to something, Crowley could tell. “Especially a friend like you.”

Crowley took off the shades to look into the angel’s eyes. “You can count on me, angel.” Aziraphale let out a sigh of relief and smiled from ear to ear. “I know I can, dear.”

***

There he sat, dragging his pen across his notebook without ever stopping even to glance at the angel and demon that sat not too far from him. Aziraphale stood up and took a seat across from the boy. Crowley followed.

“How’s it coming along?”

“Fine.”

“Have you come to any groundbreaking conclusions?” asked Crowley.

“Yes, I have.”

“And what are they?” Aziraphale inquired anxiously.

“If angels and demons are real, then God must be real, too.”

“What makes you think any of that is real?”

“You two ought to stop yelling at each other so loudly when you think no one is listening.” He looked up from his work for the first time. “There’s always someone listening.”

Crowley and Aziraphale shared a worried look. It’s not everyday that somebody finds out you’re a supernatural entity in disguise. It took one glance for Crowley to know that Aziraphale was having an absolute panic attack.

“You know, no one will believe you. They’ll call you crazy and put you in a madhouse.” He said calmly.

“They will not.”

“Oh, of course they will, boy. It’s what they do. Everyone’s stupid, lad. They’ll beat you up and do that thing where they stick your head in a toilet.”

“Waterboarding?” asked Aziraphale.

“Swirlies.” The young boy corrected.

“Right. Is that what you want your legacy to be? _Oh, yeah, I went to school with him. That bloke who believed in angels and demons and got swirlies every other day_.” Crowley threatened, “do you want to be that bloke?” Now the worry in the boy’s eyes was clear, and Aziraphale saw an opportunity.

“Why don’t you write a novel?”

“A novel?” cried the boy and the demon in unison.

“Yes, a novel. A science-fiction novel. Or a fantasy novel. That way it doesn’t matter whether people believe you are not, but you’ll put the idea in their heads. People hate being told what to think. They’d much rather believe they came up with the idea themselves.” Crowley struggled to hold back his smile as he listened to his friend’s pitch. What a smart fellow he was.

“Well,” the boy began to think it over, “that wouldn’t be a bad idea.”

“And you’ll make much more money out of a proper book than simply writing for the school paper. It’s absolutely brilliant.” Said Crowley, backing up his friend, “It might take you a long time, though. Maybe you should do it with a friend.”

“Well, it’s not a bad idea, is it.” The duo had clearly won him over, “a book about an angel and demon being friends. I _must_ write that, before someone else does. I’m sorry, I must leave you two. I must get started right away.” And with that, the article was torn out of the notebook, crumpled up and thrown into the nearest trashcan. “Hey,” the boy called before disappearing around the corner, “thank you.”

Aziraphale and Crowley couldn’t help but beam at the boy and mouth a sincere _you’re welcome_.

***

“That was very smart of you, angel.” Crowley praised Aziraphale nearly all the way back to the Bentley.

“Thank you, thank you,” he blushed in return, “I couldn’t have done it without you, Crowley.”

“Yes, you could.”

“No, really, I- “

“You can do anything, angel.” He said in his most sober tone, “it just so happens you enjoy my company and I make everything better.” There was the Crowley Aziraphale knew.

“Well, since I can do anything, I might as well make us look normal again.”

“Too bad, I was kind of getting used to looking this good.”

“Oh, Crowley. Don’t be nonsensical. You always look good.”

“I could say the same thing about you, angel.” Crowley smiled like a lovestruck schoolgirl as he rested his head on the roof of the car across from Aziraphale, who was blushing like a ripe tomato. He snapped his fingers and the sixteen year old boys were gone. The black hair turned ginger and the chubby cheeks disappeared.

“Lift home, angel?”

 

THE END


End file.
